Road Racing Poetry - The Micro takes the Crown The morning cracked us into life - the Skerries sky was blue, the smell of bacon frying and the waft of two-stroke too All about was fevered haste - the pits alive with sound we strolled in dazed confusion as the pit crews milled around. The final checks were being made to chariots of steel we were in the way and so we turned a speedy heel. Practice had been perfect and they reached unheard of speeds someone on this lovely day would blow them to the weeds The flag was dropped and all the 125 wheels pawed the air dust and dirt flew all about with blue smoke everywhere As sure as daytime dawns and sets the Micro got the start With Ian Lougher looking to upset the apple cart On lap three while the micro lead - the red flag stopped the race And when the grid reformed we saw the Micros focussed face They let them go a second time and as it was before swapping elbows, paint and places too, as up the road they tore True giants of the track they were - on rubber burning pace their times would now be added up to find who'd win the race Lougher had the edge as both the pilots sped around looking for the extra horses if they could be found Flying thru' the bomb hole as their back wheels skipped about then heading for the finish, sure you couldn't pick one out They rounded St Movee to drag the endless straight it seemed and Lougher still just held it as the tiny engines screamed tightly rounding Schoolhouse with the Micro just behind Lougher took the flag but would he also beat the time Alas for Ian not enough, just point two two away the Micro had the vital edge on this amazing day He'd raced on all tracks far and wide and this year won the lot it ended as it started as he gave us all he'd got A fitting grand finale to a title-winning year a memorable Killalane for sure I'm drooling for next year. Back to Poem's Index